Life is not a rehearsal......

It is a soap opera, but I wish it was a sitcom. You know like the Cosby Show?

I love the Cosby Show. It takes me back to a simpler time. Claire was the quintessential mother who rarely had her feathers ruffled where her children were concerned. Where can I get some of that?

I think I am Claire's polar opposite. My feathers are all over the room at times. I have a tendency to exude calm, cool, collection. That is my facade.

I loved the elaborate lessons the Cosby children were taught. Remember the one with Theo living on his own? Money lesson learned in one half hour. Or the one where Theo was on trial for telling half truths and other deceptions? Yet another courtroom drama wrapped up in, you guessed it, one half hour.

Where am I going with all of this? I think it can be wrapped up neatly in the Serenity Prayer. "Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference."

In the immortal words of Frank Costanza, "Serenity Now, Serenity Now!"

What a Cutie Patootie Pie

This post is dedicated to a very gifted athlete. I have been watching the Olympics, paying especially rapt attention to this handsome young man. In some ways, he reminds me of Andrew.



The sheer power, the 6 foot 7 inch wing span, the incredible strength. I mean, "I'm scared of you!"



Every night as I watched him prepare for his swims, I would wonder aloud, "What is he listening to on that Ipod?"



When I workout, I'm usually listening to upbeat dance music or some hip hop lite. No gangsta rap here. Foshizzle. It turns out that when he is in the "zone" he is listening to hip hop, particulary Lil Wayne. Just thought you might like to know that.



I'm not particularly fond of Lil Wayne, but it must be working for him. This is what pure joy looks like!

Probably what I can appreciate the most about Michael Phelps, besides that perfectly chiseled physique, and his boyish handsomeness is........


He loves his momma!

Dancing in the street

When my children were smaller, I used to tell them a funny little story about the first day of school. I told them that on the first day of school, after all of the kids went to school, me and all of the other moms would dance in the street. For a couple of years I told them I got to LEAD the dance in the street. They eventually caught on, but it was fun while it lasted.


Here is Mark. Mark is so happy because it is the first day of school. He's happy because summer vacation was so boring, what with all the video game playing, sleeping in, and playing with friends all day. I'd need a break from that lifestyle too. Actually, he is smiling this funny smile because I said a funny word that he wasn't expecting.

See how studly Mark has become? It's his first day of Junior High and we have grown up so much. He looks so much older to me:( My baby! Speaking of baby; Mark had his dental visit and cleaning on Thursday morning. His teeth were all nice and sparkly white. No cavities either. He did have one small annoyance though, what with his newly discovered grown up personna and all. One last baby tooth. A BABY tooth!!!

Mark took matters into his own "hands" and had that baby out the very next night! I just had it cleaned! What, no more tooth fairy either? What am I good for anymore now?

Well, Mark had a good first day of school and just as I had predicted:



He was fast asleep on the couch within an hour of returning home for the day.

Adoption

I have been thinking about this topic for quite a long time. It has been an interesting experience thus far. I share this with you, my blogging friends and family, as a chance to share a little of the experience from my perspective.

I was adopted by my first stepfather when I was about 6 or 7 years old. I had no contact with my "sperm donor" other than a memory from my 2 year old mind. (You may find that unbelievable, but, I have confirmed this memory with those who were there)
He was only part of my life for about 5 years. He has since passed away and I was never able to reconnect with him to be able to ask the questions that my childhood would have liked answered. Did he ever think about me or wonder what happened to me in the 30 years since he had seen me? Did he love me?

I find myself very conflicted as I ponder the circumstances that led to my first grandchild being adopted. I loved this child before she was even born and my heart aches not having her in my daily life. Some will argue that these are selfish feelings that I have or that maybe I should never have bonded with her. I would not give up the short time I got to spend with her for anything in this world or the one to come. What is not understood is the deep love I felt for her before she ever breathed her first breath of air. Some days it is a deep physical pain and loss that I feel. I know, selfish, huh?

These are things that I feel I cannot or that I'm supposed to not say or feel. Much is said and written about adoptive families. I have been in close proximity to the pain that is felt of losing children or never having the ability to have them at all. I can't say that I know firsthand what it feels like, however, I think that what I feel is very close to it. I can't find anything about the birth parents or grandparents and the lingering effects it has on them. It almost seems that society would have you think that everyone goes away from the experience skipping off into their happy lives.

I feel like I have a huge hole in my heart that will never be filled. Now, don't get me wrong, I am happy that she is happy and has a complete family that loves her with all of their hearts. I guess I wish I didn't feel like I was on the outside, looking in the window, with the curtain fluttering, giving me only tiny glimpses of moments that really aren't mine to have.

Did my father ever feel that way about me.

Where has my baby boy gone?

This is my Andrew, all of 20 years old today. Where has the time gone?


He has turned into such a strapping young man. I remember just staring at him when he was a little baby, wondering what he would look like, and who would he be.


So very handsome, and so full of cheese!


A is for "always" being a great "addition" to our family.

N is for how "nice" he is. And "neat".

D is for his "delightful" sense of humor. He always makes me laugh.

R is for his "responsible" nature. I think he came that way.

E is for always "eating". You wouldn't know it to look at him.

W is for the 20 "wonderful" years of being my "wonderful" son.

My teenaged boy is no more. I am the mother of a 20 year old? Now when did this happen? Must have been while I watched his angel face sleeping.

Happy Birthday Andrew, I love you, you're precious, you're special, Good Night.

Breaking Dawn

I finished reading at 1:30 this morning. I WILL NOT SPOIL THIS! All I can say is, "I LOVED IT!" On Friday night, I went to the "Breaking Dawn" release party at Border's here at Superstition Springs Mall. Myself, and my fellow crazies had a great time, but, I couldn't wait to read my book.

I was reading Valynn's blog a few moments ago and I saw a truly horrifying picture of myself, so I know what I will spend extra time doing now. More on that later. Anyway, I want to thank all you gals that got me into these books. I don't think there is anything I've enjoyed more, and most especially the comraderie and kindred spirits I find you all to be.

One Sweet Ride

That Brittany. She's a hard worker. Look what hard work buys these days:



My first car was a Chevy Chevette. Don't ask me what year, they don't make them anymore and chances are you won't see an old one on the road anywhere. They're all dead.



Lee and I are Toyota lovers, so we don't know where this Chevy driver comes from. Then there is our Mitsubishi driver; there's four vehicles parked at our house! I have my OWN car back, and Brit is off to work again.